


Into the Shadows

by TakashiUmi



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Gay, M/M, Original Character(s), Retelling, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Warlocks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakashiUmi/pseuds/TakashiUmi
Summary: In a world where Shadowhunters care so much about public opinion, what will happen when one falls in love with a Downworlder? A Warlock named Jeff falls for Mark Nighthunter at the Pandemonium Club, but things start to spiral when they get summoned to L.A. & Valentine returns.





	1. Chapter 1

**1**

****

“It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.”  
~H.G. Wells - The Time Machine

**New York, August 2007**

I don't know how long it has been since my life has seen any form of excitement. Well, I guess it is more exciting than most people's lives. That's just part of the territory when you aren't ordinary. I learned very quickly that I wasn't like everyone else. My eyes were a shade of blue as clear as an untouched oasis; my hair jet black, but possessed a sheen like stars in the night sky. People stopped me often to ask me what product I used to get that effect, but I never do anything to my hair. I never used to anyway. Now I hide my hair so that I don't get stopped. Some would wear hats, but I had another method, a spell.

Yes, magic is real, and that isn't all. There is so much more that we'll get to later as it comes up because this day was one of the least ordinary days of my life. It started as usual, but it was later that night when the pace began to quicken. I decided to hit up the local all-ages club that night and meet up with an old friend of mine. I sat in the VIP area and scanned the crowd. There was the usual mix of people from their mid 30s to their teens, or at least they appeared that age.

I immediately knew that something was going to happen tonight when I spotted a boy with blue hair. I don't believe that I recognized him, but I also haven't been to the club in a while. He was eyeing up another young woman in a flowing white dress with a pulsing red pendant dangling around her neck. I recognized the pendant, it was a rare one of a kind amulet that used to belong to my friend that was meeting me here tonight. He gave it to a Shadowhunter family many years ago now, and I imagined that this girl was part of that family. Her hair was a dark black, and she seemed to have this boy in a trance. He moved on her like a dog following a trail as she lead the way to a door in the back of the club marked for employees only.

It didn't take me long to spot the accomplices of this girl. I trained myself a long time ago to see through the glamor of a Shadowhunter, and a pair of muscular young men were making their way through the crowd. The club goers parted like when Moses parted the red sea, but I was certain they didn't know why they did so. That was how a glamor worked, the Mundanes would feel the sudden urge to get out-of-the-way, but it would seem natural. They wouldn't be suspicious of anything. They stopped outside of the door and I watched the blonde pull out a shimmering blade. Excitement, my heart jumped slightly and my gaze intensified.

"Jeff!" my friend finally showed up, his dark black hair spiked slightly, and his cat-like eyes hidden behind a spell, "How long has it been? 100 years?"

"Magnus," I smiled, "I see you're doing well. It has definitely been a while, but maybe I'll hang around a while. Seems like New York is quite exciting."

Magnus followed my gaze to the two boys who then slipped into the back as well, "Shadowhunters. They don't come here often and it looked like they were going to cause trouble."

"Yes, a girl went back there with a blue haired boy. You probably know her," I paused and looked up to the ceiling, "What was their family name again? Herondale? Lightwood? The ones with the necklace that glows in the presence of demonic energy."

"It was a Herondale, but he gave it to his sister who married into the Lightwood family. Their descendants lead the Institute in New York. There must be trouble brewing if they are here."

"See Magnus," I flicked my wrist and summoned a bottle of Chardonnay in my right hand with two glasses in my left, "You have so much excitement in this town. I was in L.A. for a while you know, Malcolm Fade is the high Warlock there now, I never liked him."

"Yeah, yeah," Magnus was still fixated on the door, "Life is too short for hatred. I know that he is odd, but you know how we get as we age."

"Yes, but they should have asked me to become the High Warlock. I am clearly the better choice," I poured our glasses and passed him one, "You know me better than anyone Magnus, and you know that I am far more reliable than cooky old Fade."

"I know, I would have recommended you had they asked me," Magnus's gaze now drifted to another girl who stood near the door that the Shadowhunters slipped through, "Ugh, what is she doing here?"

"The redhead?" I tried to spot who he was watching.

"Yes, Clary Fairchild, I've done some work for her mother, and now she is heading for trouble."

The girl was making her way toward the door. Her hair flowed behind her like flames in the wind.

"Fairchild? That's another Shadowhunter family right? Does she have a new kind of glamor rune? She looks just like the Mundanes, I can't see a rune on her."

"No, she has no runes. I can't really go into the details now, but her mom has her reasons for what she did."

"Well then, do we need to intervene," I sent the Chardonnay away and placed the glass on the nearby table, "You know how nosey I am. I'm dying to find out what is going on."

"Probably not the best idea, you know how they get. They're very act now, ask questions later type of people. You could get us both locked up."

"Oh come on Magnus, excitement, adventures, don't you want to have some fun?"

"I don't really enjoy captivity," Magnus glanced at me, "I'm more of the free-flowing type."

"Alright, alright, but if that Clary girl turns up dead in the morning and the Clave comes asking questions I'm going to blame you."

"I think three Shadowhunters can protect one untrained one."

"Perhaps four Shadowhunters," my eyes spotted another boy, probably around fifteen. He had dark black hair, like one of the two earlier, but was much shorter and he was clearly of Asian descent, perhaps Pacific Islander. His muscles were well-defined in his dark black gear. He had a crossbow hanging across his back and a quiver of arrows at his side. He made his way towards the door, but didn't seem to notice the girl heading for it a short distance from him.

"I don't recognize that one. There aren't many Shadowhunters here in New York, and I have the pleasure of knowing all of them except for him."

"I think I'll see what this is all about," I flicked my wrist once again as a cloud of smoke swept me away then I appeared in front of the young man, "Why hello there Shadowhunter. What brings you to this fine establishment with your little friends?" I glanced towards the door.

"Move Warlock, we are here doing business of the Clave."

"Oooooo, the Clave," I mocked his rude tone, "Don't you think three Shadowhunters can take down one? Whatever is in there?"

"Yes they could, but I am part of the New York Institute now, and I have to go to help on the mission."

"Of course, of course, I understand how you Shadowhunters work, but I just wanted a word. You aren't from here, so tell me about you." The boy's face flushed. Meanwhile Clary managed to slip through the door behind us.

"I really don't have the time for this," he attempted to nudge past me as I slipped my phone in his hand.

"Then perhaps you will have the time later, and can spare a moment now to give me your number."

"Alright, you win, but you have to let me go after this," he quickly typed his number and passed it back to me before turning for the door.

"And your name?" I called after him.

"Mark, Mark Nighthunter."

"Alright Mr. Nighthunter," I typed the name into my contacts.

"Did you just get his number?" Magnus glared over my shoulder and I jumped, nearly smacking him in the face.

"Yes, I certainly did."

"You know that would only cause problems. Shadowhunters aren't allowed to mix with the Downworlders."

"People can change my dear Magnus," I slipped my phone back into my pocket, "Don't forget that I know you fancied a Shadowhunter once back in London."

"I may have had a crush, but I did not act upon it."

"I believe I remember a kiss."

"It was not mutual, and had a motif of making someone else angry."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff goes on his first date with Mark, but things don't go according to plan.

2

"It's much better to do good in a way that no one knows anything about it." ~Leo Tolstoy - Anna Karenina

Darkness, pure darkness was all that could be seen for miles and miles; until there was light. Not enough light to fill the room, but enough to make out the silhouette of a sword, a goblet, and a mirror, possibly; how can you tell a mirror exists in pure darkness? There was a noise, a very powerful noise, it sounded like words, but I couldn't understand them. I remember hearing a sound like this before. That was years ago, decades, perhaps even centuries. I saw a bright orange, fire maybe, a streak of light yellow. Then I heard something that was all too familiar, crying.

I shot up in bed with a cold sweat dripping from my forehead. It was not unusual for Warlocks to have nightmares. They were mixes of humans and demons, so many believe that it is their demonic parent sending them visions of the future. No one has proof either way, but it will be interesting to see how things play out. Everyone knows that a sword, cup, and mirror relates to the Shadowhunters. They are what they call the Mortal Instruments. They always knew where two of them were for a while, but they lost the cup. The only one that they never found was the mirror. Perhaps this was a good thing because rumor was that if all three were gathered in the same place, they could be used to summon an angel.

'Was that a vision?' I got out of bed, dragging my feet as I trudged into the bathroom and splashed water on my face at the sink. I grabbed my phone and pulled up Mark in my contacts to begin sending a message. 'Hey there, it's Jeff Wolfwright from Pandemonium last night. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight?'

I tucked my phone away and went to my walk in closet that was likely larger than most people's apartments in New York. With the swish of my finger a light blue shirt with a spiraling whirlpool that formed a darker shade flew from its hanger. My shirt lifted off and the new one fell lightly over me and fit snugly. Next a tight leather jacket slid up my arms and rested on my shoulders. I squeezed into my tight black jeans and swapped my phone into the new pocket just before it vibrated.

I snatched it out and checked the new message, 'Sure, everyone else already has plans for tonight, and I don't see any missions that are coming up. What time and where would you like to meet?'

'How about I pick you up from the Institute? Then we can go to a local coffee shop. I hear that there is a locals poetry slam.'

'Alright, I'll make sure I am ready. Sounds like fun.'

'See you then. ;)' I returned the phone to my pocket and looked to the clock. It was only one-o'clock. I held out my hand and a spiraling wind began to form a vortex in front of me. I stepped through it into a hallway of a New York apartment building. I immediately went to the door of an apartment and slammed the knocker a few times. Magnus opened his door and gave me an odd look.

"You didn't even bother letting me know that you were coming over," he lead the way inside and I sat on the red leather sofa in the living room, resting my feet on the mahogany coffee table, "I could have guests that I am entertaining for all you know."

"Magnus, you and I both know that you are hesitant when it comes to romance. I've been there for you since you had all the troubles with Camille. Then there was Peru…"

"I'm banned from Peru."

"You never did tell me why that happened."

"And you never did tell me why you are dressed so fabulously," Magnus poured us some drinks and whisked the glass over to me, "Certainly this isn't for me."

"I happen to have a date with the Shadowhunter boy tonight."

"Oooooo, and does he know that it is a date?" Magnus sipped from his glass and took a seat next to me.

"Perhaps, but perhaps not."

"Keeping secrets already, never a good thing," he chastised me with his harshest scowl.

"Hey, two guys can just hang out without labeling things right away."

"You were the one to label it, not me. Also, remember what I said about Shadowhunters mingling with Downworlders? It isn't allowed, or at least frowned upon."

It was in that moment that a small striped cat hopped into Magnus's lap and purred steadily as Magnus began to pet him.

"And this must be Chairman Meow," I held out my hand was sniffed then playfully batted, "I have heard so much about you."

"This is a first for him, he doesn't really like people, and prefers hiding in the room."

"Pets love me Magnus, what can I say," I pulled my hand away and the Chairman contentedly hopped down and strutted back to the bedroom, "I am bored." I twisted my hand through my hair.

"Then portal yourself to Rome and go visit the Colosseum."

"I've already been there, and what if he would like to go to Rome. I can't go there twice in one day."

"You certainly could, you just don't want to," Magnus sipped from his drink, "Why did you push it off until so late if you were just going to come over here and pester me over how bored you are?"

"I couldn't sound desperate and have him meet me right away, that would be poor manners."'

"Then I'll cast a sleeping spell on you. It's simple and you'll end up looking well rested for your date."

"You are too kind Magnus," he flicked his wrist and my eyes slammed shut, drifting me off into a deep sleep.

Water, water everywhere. Bubbles drifted up as a girl was floating in the water. I couldn't tell if she was dead or in a state of suspended animation. Her long dark hair floated out around her head like a veil. I noticed some odd markings on the body that didn't look like the Runes of a Shadowhunter, but quite the opposite. Runes were supposed to represent the language of the angels; these markings were the language of demons. I'd seen these markings before in powerful spells.

"Hey, time to wake up," Magnus jolted me awake, "It is 8:30, so you have 30 minutes to collect yourself and get to the Institute."

"Thank you," I hopped off the couch and approached the mirror. After the flick of my wrist my hair shaped itself into a faux hawk the sparkles continued to drift off of it and fell slowly towards the ground, "Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you."

"I couldn't imagine what that would be," Magnus waved me off as I exited his apartment and made my way out to the busy streets of New York. I slipped down an alley and raised my hand to a brick wall. The bricks began to tumble away and a blue spiral formed sucking the air inwards. I stepped in and found myself standing outside of a grand old church. Shadowhunters made ancient churches their headquarters throughout the world. It became convenient as Vampires couldn't enter. Many of the Institutes built separate corridors that lead off hallowed ground if they needed to question a vampire. I don't recall ever being in the New York Institute, but I have been in the London and the L. A. ones. They were low tech and used special stones called witchlight for lighting. They glowed when a Shadowhunter grew near and would dim as they left the room.

"Hey, sorry, have you been waiting long?" Mark emerged from the gates in a pair of jeans and a tight black shirt that accentuated all of his muscles. His pitch black hair was also put up, but held in place by product instead of magic. He still wore a weapons belt at his waist, but it only had a spot for a knife-like weapon.

"Oh no, I just got here. I was simply admiring the architecture. I haven't been to this Institute."

"It is a nice one, bigger than the one back in the Philippines."

"The Philippines is a lovely place. I haven't been there in years, but I'm sure it is still just as great."

"You've probably been all over this world huh?"

"I have been to many places, not everywhere, but several. Anyways, where would you like…"

I was cut off by a slight snapping noise as a tiny burst of flame appeared in front of me. It dissipated and an orange maple leaf took its place, drifting to my hand with letters etched into it.

Dear Mr. Wolfwright,

We hereby request your presence in Los Angeles for a meeting with the High Warlock. There is a situation that requires your presence. Please arrive immediately after reading this.

Sincerely,

Malcolm Fade

High Warlock of Los Angeles

"I am so sorry," I apologized to Mark as I crushed the leaf in my hand.

"Hey, how about I go with?"

"I don't know if I'm allowed a guest, but I hate Fade, so why not?"

"Mind if I change into my gear. You don't know what we might run into."

"Go ahead," he rushed back into the church and I glared at the pieces of leaf blowing away in the wind. Why did he have to send for me? I guess he doesn't really know that I hate him, but I didn't tell him I was leaving town, and I never went to visit him. I leaned up on the pillar next to the gate. It was only about five minutes before Mark returned in a tight black jumpsuit-esque outfit with a belt containing many pouches and slots. His crossbow was resting against his right leg and the quiver of arrows wa on his back yet again, just like the day we first met. I felt my face got hot and looked away quickly.

"Thanks for waiting on me. How about we get going?"

"Oh, no problem," I raised my hand and a portal appeared on the stone wall next to the gate, "One trip to Los Angeles." He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the portal before my face could flush.

The bright sunlight blinded us as we stepped out of the portal and into an alley in L.A. The cars were rushing by on the busy street and we took in our new surroundings.

"I wonder what could have been so important," Mark removed a small plastic device with buttons and runes inscribed on it, "There isn't a large amount of demonic energy."

"Ahh, a sensor, I was around when that was invented you know. Very tricky device, but invented by a very brilliant man."

"Henry Branwell right?" Mark tucked the device away, "Wasn't that back in the 1800s?"

"Ooooo, a boy who knows his history, but you haven't heard of me," I frowned, "Typical Shadowhunters don't include the Downworlders in their books. You probably don't even know how the portal came into existence."

"That was by Branwell too wasn't it? Him and a Warlock?"

"Yes, him and A Warlock," I shook my head, didn't even get his name.

"It wasn't you was it?"

"Oh heavens no, I was still young back then. Not nearly powerful enough to invent spells."

"Why if it isn't Jeffrey!" a tall man with white hair and purple eyes approached us. His angular face made him look mature, but he didn't seem more than 27 years old. He grabbed my hand and kissed it.

I had all I could do not to flinch away, "Malcolm, great to see you again." I said with a fake smile, "How has the new job been?"

"Busy you know, and you just popped off. I guess you aren't required to tell me when you leave town, but it would have been nice to have a little help."

"So sorry, just had to take care of some business in New York. Very important."

His eyes flashed to Mark who was still uncertain about how to react to the stranger, "And who is this?"

"Mark Nighthunter, this is Malcolm Fade, the High Warlock of Los Angeles," I cheesily and half-heartedly stretched out my hand to introduce them.

"A Shadowhunter," Malcolm smiled, but it was obviously a ruse, "You brought a Shadowhunter."

"You interrupted our date."

Malcolm shot me a look that could only be described as vexation, "Well, I'm sorry for that." He turned away, "I need your help with a rogue Werewolf, there was an attack recently, and I need help subduing both the attacker and the attackee."

"That doesn't really sound like a job for me. Why didn't you go to the Los Angeles Institute or the Praetor Lupus? They are better suited for this."

Malcolm began to show us the way to his place, "Shadowhunters tend to kill first and ask questions later. As for the Praetor, they have a long wait list. They said they would send someone as soon as they have an opening. They asked me to keep them in check until they can get here."

"I'm sorry, but what is the Praetor Lupus?" Mark strode next to me.

"It is a Werewolf organization. They help control rogue Downworlders without the violence of the Shadowhunters. Sorry, but you are a violent sort," I gave him an apologetic look, "So this is the exact situation that they were designed for."

"Yes, yes, but if they are too busy, then we are the next in line. I'm sure they will have someone out here by the end of the night," Malcolm brushed off my commentary.

"Okay, give me the last seen location so I can get to work and get out of this place," I snapped my fingers and immediately had a pen and paper in my hands.

""Always in a hurry Jeffrey," Malcolm frowned, "Do you really despise L.A. that much? No wonder I became the High Warlock."

"We could just go home you know."

"Alright, right this way," Malcolm flicked his wrist and a portal appeared in the wall of the nearby alley. We followed him through to his luxury apartment. The living room had large windows that faced the ocean. The drapes were golden-yellow and hung from a rod that was likely gold. There was a white couch with ruby-red throw pillows, "Welcome to my lovely abode." He snapped again and a cork board with pictures pinned to a map. As you can see, it was last seen on Willow Street near Abby's place."

"The new Warlock in L.A.? Why didn't you ask for her to help?" I looked at the map closely.

"I did, but like you said, she is new, and doesn't know the town as well as we do," Malcolm flicked his wrist and the board vanished.

"Okay, we will be going," I raised my hand towards the door and created a portal.

"Thank you for having us," Mark nodded to Malcolm as we left through the portal.

The bright gold and white of the living room blurred as it morphed into the dark brick buildings of Willow Street. There was a dainty pub on the right with a small sign that read, 'Mario's Bar & Grill.'

"If anyone knows anything about these attacks, they would be in here," I gestured for us to go inside.

"Oh, is this a Downworlder bar?" Mark walked in and admired the drapery around the many tables lined with plush couches.

"Yes, so don't drink anything here or you might not remember the rest of the night. I can only do so much if you do."

"Right," Mark watched as a beautiful girl with flowing blonde hair passed by us. She had golden twigs wrapped around her head and ears that came to a point.

"The Fair Folk are some of the biggest perpetrators of spiking the drinks. They may only be able to speak the truth, but they love mischief." I spotted another brunette sitting at a table on the far end of the room. She had blonde streaks in her short hair, and talon-like claws on her fingers. We approached her and I took the seat across from her, "Are you Abby?"

"Yes, but who are you, and why did you bring a Shadowhunter?" she shot Mark a glare as he sat next to me.

"He is my date," I grabbed his hand, "I'm Jeff, Malcolm called me from New York to help with the Werewolf investigation."

"Oh, you are Jeff, I heard you were a top contender for Head Warlock here," her attention seemed peaked now, "I apologize if I offended you." She looked back to Mark, "I actually don't have a huge number of interactions with Shadowhunters, but your kind doesn't have the best reputation."

"So, I've been told," Mark shrugged it off, "I don't exactly agree with everything the Clave says, but sed lex, dura lex. The law is hard, but it is the law. So they say."

"Old latin phrases are big with the Shadowhunters. Anyways, Abby, have you made any progress on gathering intel on this rogue Werewolf attack?"

"Not much, a Mundane died yesterday. We reported it to the Praetor Lupus, and they said they should have someone out here by tomorrow. However, I am sure that the Shadowhunters are investigating it as well. They're going to want it killed, it doesn't matter that it is a recently turned wolf."

"I could try going to the Institute and talking to them," Mark offered.

"I don't think that would be a great idea," I shook my head, "They are going to want the Werewolf killed, and I don't think that is necessary. Besides, I am sure that they are already performing their own investigation. We'll run into them soon enough."

"We need something to go from in order for us to find this rogue wolf," Mark looked to me, "In order to use a tracking rune, we would need something that belonged to it. Do we have anything?"

"Runes aren't the only way to track something. I can use a spell, but we need some ingredients," I flicked my wrist, and the napkin flew over to me followed shortly after by a pen from behind the bar. "I need Wolf's bane, blood of a werewolf, hair from the werewolf that we wish to track, and I can take care of the rest."

"When we have to already know where it is to get the hair?" Abby asked in a sarcastic tone.

"If you go to where the Mundane was killed, you should find some hair," I snapped my fingers and three vials appeared. I handed one to Abby, one to Mark, and kept the last for myself. "Abby will be in charge of getting the hair, Mark, would you mind getting some wolfsbane while I obtain the blood?"

"I'm sure I can get the flower, but how do you plan on getting the blood?"

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill anyone. They actually have shops for Warlocks to buy the ingredients they need for spells, so I'll just head there."

"How do you expect me to know what hair actually belongs to werewolf and what hair is just from the last human to pass by?" Abby twisted the vial between her fingers.

"It is pretty easy to tell the difference between a hair from a werewolf in the hair of a human. Also they will probably have your area closed off so I doubt any other humans would've gone through there. As for getting the wrong werewolf's hair, I doubt any of them would pass through considering how much trouble they can get themselves into with the Shadowhunters. After we get everything we will meet back at this bar." I put my hand behind my back, and concentrated on making a small metal object appear. I felt the cold metal in my hand and pulled Mark aside.

I held out a dark black ring with blue and purple stones embedded into it. "This ring will give you a constant connection to me. If you need my help, just twist it three times around your finger, and I'll know exactly where you are and be there as soon as I can."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio split up to get the items that they need for the tracking spell.

3

"It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not." ~André Gide, Autumn Leaves

There was a rip or even a tear inside me as everything blurred into a blend of colors. The next thing I knew I was looking through the eyes of somebody else.

Present Day

The shop was dimly lit and you could faintly smell the mold wafting off the brick walls. An old man with an eye patch and the hunchback stepped out from behind the counter and approached me.

"Well, I haven't seen you in how many years now?" He held a monocle up to his eye and examined me from head to toe, "You haven't changed one bit."

"Neither have you Vidar," I said, "I'm here on business, do you still sell ingredients?"

"Of course I do," he laughed loudly, "I didn't think I'd see you again after they named that Malcolm the new head Warlock of LA."

"Have, neither did I, but he needed my help and you know how I have trouble saying no."

"Yes, you do have that problem, even more of a reason why I thought you would be chosen as the head Warlock."

"Well, I'm enjoying my life in New York. I'm even on the date now, but Malcolm called me out here on business."

"Oh ho ho, a date with who? "

"Just a Shadowhunter," I rubbed the back of my head.

"A Shadowhunter! Why would you date a Shadowhunter?"

"Because he seems nice, and why would you care I'm in New York now so it's not your problem."

"And it's a boy! You know how they treat people like that. You're only going to cause problems for him."

"Who doesn't like a bit of trouble? Now what I need from you is some werewolf blood, do you have any?"

"Yes I have some," he shuffled his way over to a cupboard, and began sifting through files upon vials the sound of clacking glass filled the room, "I'll even give it to at a discount, for old time's sake."

"You don't have to Vidar, you are a business, and I expect you to treat me as a customer."

"Don't you worry about me, $20 will be perfectly fine."

I reached into my pocket pulling out my old leather wallet and taking the $20 bill out to hand to him. "Thank you, I probably will not see you for a while as soon as I'm done here I'm heading back to New York."

"Well, don't you forget about us back here," he took the money and handed me a vial of the dark red liquid.

"I could never forget about the stupid town. You never know, maybe I will be back here again one day."

"Hopefully on better terms next time," she walked me to the door and waved goodbye as I we parted ways.

Mark's Point of View

Moments after Everyone Parted Ways

I slid the ring on my finger as I proceeded down the street. I approached a couple of girls sitting outside coffee shop, "Excuse me, but do you know where I can find a flower shop?"

"Yeah, I believe I saw one right around the corner, Rose Tyler's Floral," the one on the left gestured down the street and to the right, "I think that my coworker ordered some flowers from there once and said they are reasonably price."

"Thank you so much," I gave them a smile before I continued down the street. I turned the corner and saw a small shop with large windows in the front displaying beautiful bouquets. Hanging above the door was a quaint wooden sign that read Rose Tyler's Floral. I open the door and the ring of a small bell chimed through the shop. A young-looking blonde no older than 19 emerged from the back of the shop her hair fell at her shoulders, and she had a friendly smile on her face.

"Hello, welcome, what can I do for you?" She had a slight accent, possibly British, and continued to smile brightly.

"Yes, I was wondering if you happen to have any Wolf's bane?"

"That's definitely an odd ask, not exactly the flower of romance, but yes I do have some."

"Oh no, it isn't for anyone in particular. It is just for decoration purposes."

"Alright, just be careful because it often means that a challenging foe is in your future."

If she only knew the half of it. "But now that you mention it, I think I'll pick up some flowers for someone too," what kind of flowers would he like? "Do you have any light blue roses?"

"Of course, how many of each would you like, and did you want any vases?"

"Only one of the Wolf's bane will do, and that no vase for that, and a dozen of the roses please with a vase."

"All right, I'll be back in just a few minutes," she went to the back and began to gather the items.

I looked down at the ring admiring the small jewels embedded into the band. I decided to wander around the shop look at the ready-made bouquets. Some had get well soon cards; others said I love you. I saw a flash of movement through the window which caught my eye a person dressed in all black was running up the street. It wasn't just any black clothing, it was Shadowhunter gear. Should I go speak to them? I can't just leave the shop. I wonder why they are down here, I don't sense anything out of the ordinary.

The back door opened and the girl came out with a gorgeous purple vase filled with the light blue roses. Next to that was a single piece of Wolf's bane wrapped in plastic. The vase with the roses had a bit of baby's breath thrown in to give it a little variety. "What do you think?"

"They look really great," I slowly spun the vase around admiring the floral pattern embedded into the glass, "How much do I owe you?"

"It will be $30 for the roses and $5 for the Wolf's bane, so $35."

I grabbed my wallet, and gave her the $35 before picking up the flowers and thanking her.

"My pleasure, please come again."

I gathered the flowers and stepped outside, glancing up the street, searching for the Shadowhunter that was racing past a mere moment ago. There was no sign of them, common since they were likely glamoured so that the Mundanes wouldn't notice. I decided to head back towards the bar that we were at earlier. It was then that I noticed a small girl, she wore black Shadowhunter gear, and had her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail.

"Hey there," I approached her hand outstretched, "I'm a Shadowhunter too, from the New York Institute. My name is Mark Nighthunter."

She seemed taken aback that anyone could see her, but she quickly understood and shook my hand, "Hello Mark, I didn't know we were having anyone from New York come to town. My name is Emma Silverowl."

"Oh, I'm not here on official Clave business. I'm here for personal business."

She looked down and saw the flowers and smiled, "Ooooo, a date. Who's the lucky girl? Is it someone from the Institute?"

"No, it's a bit complicated I'd rather not go into it." I felt my face flush and scratched the back of my head.

"Okay, I won't pry. However, what is the Wolf's bane for? You only have one so I don't think you're trying to incorporate it into the bouquet, so it must be for something else."

"Well, I needed for part of a spell."

"A spell?! What could you possibly need to cast a spell for?" She seemed extremely skeptical, "I thought you weren't here on official Clave business?"

"I'm not, I'm on a date with a Warlock."

"A Warlock?! Shadowhunters aren't supposed to date Downworlders."

"That is my decision to make, I don't really see the big deal. A lot of Shadowhunters weren't perfect."

"Fine, I'm not going to tell anyone don't worry. What kind of spell is it?"

"It's a tracking spell, my date got called out here by the head Warlock to solve the mystery of the Werewolf attack."

"That is what we're looking into now at the Institute. I would recommend that you stay out of it. The others will not be happy if you interfere."

"We just don't want the Werewolf to do anything else. We also don't want to kill it. People make mistakes you know."

"Harming Mundanes is against The Accords. This Werewolf actually killed one, and it could do it again."

"Just give us a chance we're going to make sure that nothing else happens."

"Unfortunately, that's not my decision to make. I'll pass your request on to the rest of the Institute, but I doubt they will agree to it. We will likely continue to do our own investigation, which I am in the middle of. I better get going, it was nice meeting you, and good luck on your date."

The girl ran off and I looked down at the ring. What do I do now? If the Shadowhunters at the Institute find the Werewolf before us, they are likely going to kill it. I began to twist the ring, but paused. Is this really an emergency? I'm not in any danger. I only have information to pass along. It can probably wait until we all meet up.

Abby's Point of View

Shortly after everyone split up

I was in a dark alleyway all the streetlamps were burned-out and the buildings were so tall that they blocked the sun. The dumpsters smelled of rotten fish, and were pushed close together with caution tape strung between them. I saw the white chalk outline of a body, and the floor was scattered with broken pieces of board. If I were a hair, where would I be? I used my feet to push boards to the side rummaging for any strands that I can find. A rat the size of the small dog scurried out from its hiding place that I disturbed. I squealed and raised my hand towards it sending a barrage of boards flying at it as it scurried quickly out of the alley. Finally, I saw it, a small lump of auburn colored hair. It was thick and matted, not the hair of a rat, nor the hair of a human. This has to be it. I placed it into the vial carefully, and replaced the cap.

I made my way towards the alleyway's entrance, but heard a rustling noise behind me. I threw up my strongest glamour and pressed against the wall glancing back to see what made the noise. There was a tall figure, pretty slender, but definitely a guy. He remained in the shadows, his face hidden just out of my view. He snapped his fingers, and the dumpsters whisked back against the walls. The caution tape burst up into flame diminishing quickly, and the chalk outline blew away like dust in the wind. I slowly stepped towards the entrance of the alley praying that I wouldn't be noticed by this newcomer. Right when I hit the corner, my foot rammed it into a piece of board clambering it against the brick wall.

"Who's there?" the man asked, but I darted down the street.

Jeff's Point of View

After the shop

I approached the bar and grill from earlier, twisting the vial of blood within my pocket. By now Mark should be back, and Abby should be on her way back at the very least. I pushed open the door and glanced over by the table we were at, sure enough, Mark was there sipping on a dark-colored soda. I snapped my fingers refreshing my hair and giving it a new shine before walking over to him and taking the seat across.

"Hello there," I smiled and my eyes caught the lovely vase of flowers at the end of the table, "Those are lovely, I'm guessing that you got more than just wolfsbane from the flower shop."

Mark's face flushed, "Yeah, they are for you. Hopefully it can make up for all the horrible things that Shadowhunters have done."

"You don't need to apologize, I don't blame you for the things that your people have done. You are your own person that is free to make their own choices."

"Well thank you…" I stopped him mid sentence, and pulled him in kissing him gently before releasing him. His cheeks were bright red, and he was unable to complete his sentence. Luckily, Abby interrupted us by running through the door and pushing me aside so that she could sit. She was breathing heavily, so I conjured up a glass of water from the bar which she gladly took and drank.

"What happened to you?" I asked, still watching the blush fade from Mark's cheeks.

"I managed to get the hair," she pulled out a vial and placed down the table, "but someone else showed up there. Another Warlock, and he used his magic to clean up the scene of the crime."

"That's very strange, he could get himself in trouble with the Institute. I'm sure they will not be happy if they go back to the scene and see that it's completely cleaned up."

"Speaking of the Institute," Mark thought back to the girl that he met earlier, "I met someone from the LA Institute after I finished up at the flower shop. As we thought, they are investigating, and they know that we are here. She said that she would ask if they could give us some time to try to solve this peacefully, but she doubted that they would grant that request."

"Of course they won't, the werewolf broke the Accords, and it is no longer under their protection." I grabbed the vial of the hairs, and brought out my vial of blood. Mark passed over the Wolf's bane, and I got to work. Snapping my fingers, a milky veil appeared around us, and a pot appeared in the center of the table. I picked off the petals of the Wolf's bane then placed them into the pot. I began to mutter an incantation, "Versipellem esse, nos invenire non quaeritis. Quaeso ut ea duce nos ut faciam confidenter ante inimicos nostros."

Mark stared at me, fascinated, as if he had never seen a Warlock casting a spell for. I emptied the vial of the hairs, and the pot began to smoke. "Won't the others see what we're doing?" He glanced around, but the veil seemed to blur our surroundings.

"I put up a very powerful glamour around our table. The workers will be temporarily confused about the fact that a wall now appears where a table used to be, but they won't question it."

"Well," Abby poked at the veil, causing it to shimmer briefly, but it didn't break, "that is a pretty powerful spell, and you aren't phased at all."

"I'm not your average Warlock, there is a reason I was in the running for the head Warlock of LA. It isn't just my dashing good looks." I grinned cheekily holding in my laughter. The smoke began to clear, and the pot was glowing with a purple liquid. I snapped my fingers once again, this time making a compass appeared in my hand. I poured some of the liquid onto the compass, which began to glow react the needle was no longer pointing north but was pointing towards the east side of the building.

"Wow, that is amazing!" Mark almost rose out of his seat.

"That's not the only thing that is amazing about me," I laughed and winked at him, but he just shook his head in embarrassment.

"We better get going," Abby got out of the booth, and I made the rest of the potion vanish, and released the glamour around the table.

"True, if the Institute is already on the case they could be closing in on the werewolf as we speak." I lead the way out of the building and we fall the compass to the east setting off on our journey.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find what they are looking for, but can anything be done?

4

"I'm not afraid of werewolves or vampires or haunted hotels, I'm afraid of what real human beings do to other real human beings." ~Walter Jon Williams

The sun was starting to set as we continued our search down another alleyway. "They could be in any of these buildings, or doubt any of these streets." The compass was spinning like crazy. The downside to this type of tracking spell was that it could go haywire once you reach that area that the target spends a lot of time in.

"Still, we are a lot closer than we were when we first got here. We'll find it, I'm sure." Mark grabbed my shoulder as if to reassure me and congratulate me on a job well done. I smiled back at him.

"If you two lovebirds could refrain from your flirting while we're on our mission, it would be much appreciated," Abby gagged as if she was about to hurl.

I sent the compass away as we continued into the next alley. "Well, should we start knocking on doors? I don't imagine that would go over well."

"I could try a tracking rune," Mark recommended, pulling out a slender twig of metal that radiated like heavenly fire from the holster on his belt, "Typically you need something important to the person. However, we are close enough now, so hairs are enough to help us find them."

"What an excellent idea!" I removed a vial containing a few remaining hairs from my pocket. He extended his right hand to me as I emptied the hairs into his palm. He clenched his fist and placed the tool to the back of his hand. Like paint from a brush a black marking began to flow out of the device and resembled a backwards uppercase B with some lines on the inside. It was like an ancient language that had been long forgotten by time.

It began to glow like the device that placed the marking on the skin and his fist tightened and eyes closed. It was only a moment before he opened his eyes again to tell us what he knew.

"Okay, so they are not here, but they are on their way. They are moving quickly, likely in their wolf form."

"This will be tricky," I pondered, ideas rushing through my head, "We need to get them to come to this alleyway and we need to somehow set up a trap."

"Well," Abby interjected, "How about we place some meat out?" She already raised her hand and a large pork tenderloin appeared.

"Did you just steal that?" Mark's eyes widened.

"Of course not! I deal with a local butcher all the time. I place the money for it in the register immediately after summoning it."

I eyed her skeptically, "Oh really now?"

"I resent your hostility," she turned away, "I would never steal from Mundanes."

I snapped my fingers and a large tin tray appeared to place the meat on. "Well, we don't have the time to argue. If they are in wolf form they could be here at any minute. So let's get up against the wall so I can glamour us."

We squished into a small corner by a doorway of a rundown building and sparks flew from my fingertips raising a milky veil around us like back in the bar. A few rat scurried by, smelled the meat, but my magic kept them at bay. After about five minutes a quick red-ish brown flashed across our line of sight and a large auburn wolf was devouring the loin sending juices everywhere. I released our glamour and we approached the wolf when we heard voices behind us.

"DON'T MOVE!" a man shouted causing the wolf to tear its attention from the meat, "You are under arrest by the order of the Clave!"

I turned over and saw a man with Salt and Peppered hair standing next to three other Shadowhunters all fully dressed in gear. "Little ol' me!" I gasped, "Why whatever did I do?"

"Not you Warlock," he seemed angry, but almost all Shadowhunters seemed angry.

It was then that the wolf made a move and was going to dash away. Faster than a bullet the Shadowhunter removed a dagger from the sheath at his waist and sent it flying towards the wolf. I raised my hand, sending blue sparks. The wolf was immediately pulled back as if on an invisible leash and the dagger got sent back to where it came gently sliding back in the sheath.

"You are interfering with our ability to uphold the law," the woman next to him looked taken aback, "That is against The Accords."

"Killing innocent Downworlders is also against those Accords."

"This Werewolf killed a Mundane yesterday," the man argued.

"This Werewolf was recently changed," Abby interjected, standing next to me, "They don't have full control right away."

"We can place you both under arrest for this," the man was visible angry now, his face flushing red.

"You call the Clave and tell them that Jeffrey Wolfwright is taking care of this case. I have done much for them in the past and they will likely order you to leave this to me."

The man pulled out a phone and dialed a number as I focused my energy on keeping the wolf contained. It was furious now that it felt penned up and began thrashing about into the dumpsters and cardboard boxes.

"What have you done for the Clave?" Mark whispered to me.

"It is a long story that I can go over with you later, but I'm a little busy right now. I don't know how long I can hold it."

The man put his phone away and walked towards me. Abby raised her hand and Mark placed his on his Seraph Blade.

"It's alright, the Clave said to let you be, but they wanted me to confirm that it is actually him. They say he fell off the grid decades ago. They want him to go to Idris and speak with Consul Malachi."

"Well tell the Consul that he will unfortunately have to wait as I am exceedingly busy at this moment," I was beginning to feel my spells take a toll as my breathing became more frequent.

It was then that we were interrupted by the opening of the door at the building that I thought was abandoned. "What is all of this noise?" A woman with blonde hair stepped out on the stoop, breaking my concentration and releasing the wolf right at her. There was a scream and I fell to a knee, raising my hand once more to pull the wolf away. "Do something!" I grunted out, closing my eyes to preserve what energy I had left. Mark dashed forward and pulled out some rope from his container at his waist. I sparkled slightly, likely with silver that was woven into the fibers. The wolf howled as the silver contacted its skin, but it was all we could do to keep it in place. The woman laid on the steps still screaming as Abby was over her casting spells to stop the bleeding and heal the wounds at least slightly. The sounds began to drift away like the fading sound of waves on the ocean as I drifted into unconsciousness.

Mark's Point of View

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I saw a slight smoke rise from where I was placing the rope, "You're going to be okay." I looked over and saw the blood trailing down the steps as Abby healed the attackee. Emma came over to me and knelt next to the wolf.

"Will it be okay?" she stared at it with sympathy instead of the typical hatred.

"I think so, but The Clave will not be happy that it attacked another Mundane."

"Will she be okay?"

"Warlocks make surprisingly good doctors," I smiled, "She'll probably be just fine. She might not even turn into a Lycanthrope."

"Really?" her eyes widened, "You don't always change?"

"No, I think books say that there is a one in three chance of the disease not taking."

"Not the greatest odds."

"No, but it is still a chance," I smiled.

I looked over and saw the man kneeling next to Jeff who had fallen, face first, on the ground. I moved faster than I thought I would and was next to him.

"What are you doing? What happened to him?" my tone came out harsher than I intended.

"I was just going to confirm his identity. The Consul gave me a description, and he finds it odd that he just vanished and shows up now to investigate a random Werewolf."

"Malcolm Fade summoned him here to assist with the Werewolf until the Praetor Lupus can come to take care of them."

"Okay, that explains why he is here, but why are you here?" his brow furrowed.

"Well," I felt my cheeks flush, "We needed him on a case in New York and he got summoned while I had to retrieve him. So I decided to go with him as I am a Shadowhunter that is currently training there from the Philippine Institute."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Zach," the woman from earlier placed a hand on his shoulder, "We should probably report back to the Institute and the Clave about what has happened here."

"Send Nate back to tell them. We should not leave this matter to the Downworlders."

"Well, I am here," I stopped him, "I can inform the Clave of any changes."

"See, he is another Shadowhunter. He can handle things from here," the woman attempted to reassure him.

"Are you even 18?" he questioned.

"Yes, I just turned 18 last year. I am a member of the Clave, and I will uphold the law to the best of my ability."

"See Zach, you should be a little more approachable. We all know that the law hard, but it is the law," the woman knelt next to me, "My name is Amanda Earthstorm, he is Zachariah Silverhawk. It seems that you already met Emma Silverowl, and lastly that is Nate Landstair." The others all waved as their names were mentioned. "We are all currently assigned to the L.A. Institute. I'm sure that you know the kind of pressure that Zach is under from the Clave. He really wants to be the head of an Institute one day."

"I see, but heads of the Institutes deal very closely with Downworlders. If you make them feel like they are beneath us, they won't want to listen to you." I politely shook her hand then looked to Zach.

"I know," Zach put his hand behind his head, clearly embarrassed, "I'm sorry for that. I just feel the need to always uphold the law, and I don't realize that it can be flexible at times. You know how strict the Clave is."

Jeff's eyes shot open, but they were pure white. His voice was much higher pitched and sounded almost like a song, "The man who once tried to erase them all is back again to destroy you all." The eyes slammed shut again and he began to thrash about on the ground.

"What's going on?" I backed away slightly along with everyone else, "What was that?"

"I've never heard of anything like this before."

I looked down at my hand and saw the ring. I immediately began to twist it around my finger. It began to grow extremely hot, almost burning my finger. It was then that Jeff had grabbed my hand, immediately cooling it down. He was back on his feet, but looked exhausted with heavy black rings under his eyes.

"What did I miss?"

Jeff's Point of View

Moments ago

As the darkness fell on my vision, it was quickly drowned out by a blinding golden light. I was surrounded by golden feathers with a single golden eye. Someone approached me that was human-like in figure, but so large that he could cradle three grown men in his palms. He has long silver and gold hair. His eyes are also gold with no whites or pupils. His white skin is covered in golden angelic Marks—both those familiar and unfamiliar (those not found in the Gray Book)—all of which move across his skin. As an angel, he has large golden wings, each feather of which contains a single golden staring eye. His face was described as both beautiful and inhuman.

"I speak to you to give you a warning," the angel's voice was melodic in tone and almost deafening, "Do not speak to me as you do not possess the right to speak to an angel even with the angelic blood in your veins. The man who once tried to erase them all is back again to destroy you all. I must also say that one of our own has been on Earth for far too long. The same one that you know due to that girl. We want him returned to us."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he was already gone. My vision flooded back to me and I was hit with a burning heat throughout my body. I could feel the small amount of energy that I had placed inside of the ring returning to me. I managed to get to my feet and grab Mark's hand, releasing the spell.

"What did I miss?" I breathed out, attempting to gather myself.

"Umm, a bit," Mark frowned, "You were freaking out on the floor and gave us all a bit of a scare."

"That would explain the dirt on my clothes," I brushed off my pants with my hands, "Did I say anything?"

"'The man who once tried to erase them all is back again to destroy you all.'" Zach interjected, "What does that mean?"

"Oh, the angel told me that, and it must have passed through me as a messenger."

"The angel?! You saw an angel?!" Mark's eyes widened.

"Not just an angel, but The angel. The big one for Shadowhunters, Raziel."

"You saw Raziel?" Amanda seemed sceptical, "You aren't even a Shadowhunter."

"Despite what some may think, the angel's don't hate every Downworlder. Also, I guess that since you will all find out eventually, I do have angel blood inside of me. I would rather not go in-depth with the people who I just met, but I am a Shadowhunter as well as a Warlock." I reached down and pulled out a tool similar to what Mark used earlier. It was almost like the cross between a twig and a magic wand. It shined brightly like a heavenly fire. I pressed it to the back of my hand and a black spiral began to pour out onto my skin. It resembled that of an 'E' combined with a 'h'. I began to feel its effect as soon as the mark was complete. It began to reduce my fatigue as I took the Stele in my other hand and traced another mark on the back of the opposite hand. My energy began to come back like I just had a cup of coffee. It wasn't permanent by any means, but I could probably stand for a few more minutes.

"How can you be a Warlock and a Shadowhunter?" this time Nate approached. They had short hair, and were around the same height as Mark.

"Well, that is a long story. It should be in your history books I would hope. I'm not the only one either, but I am probably the only one that you will meet as the other now lives on a secluded island."

"That sounds lovely," Mark laughed, "Any particular reason?"

"It is hard watching the people you love die," I felt my face solidify into a frown, "She had a family, kids, grandkids, but when you live forever you sometimes choose to just distance yourself so that you can't get hurt any more. Not to mention, I am sure the Clave would have liked me to join her there so that they could call upon me like a tool."

"That's a bit harsh," Nate watched as my marks began to fade, "Why don't your Runes stay on your skin?"

"Because I'm not a fan of tattoos," I looked at them seriously, but broke, "Just kidding, probably because of the demon blood in me. They don't remain, but their effects still keep as long as it would on other Shadowhunters. Of course, even if they remained I could disguise them."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Mark looked into my eyes.

"Because it is very complicated, but I promise we can sit down and discuss it all back in New York," I nearly fell as I got to my feet and approached the woman and the wolf. Abby had successfully stabilized her, and Mark had the wolf restrained, "Abby can you send a fire message to Malcolm asking about the Praetor."

"No need, I am already here," a tall, brown-skinned rocker boy with long, dark hair that tumbled over his forehead and down his neck in curls, and had long, thick eyelashes. He was broad-shouldered and slim, but muscular, with high cheekbones and startling hazel-green eyes. On both arms, he had tattoos that looked like scrolling script winding around his skin. Many would probably find him attractive, but he wasn't really my cup of tea, "The name is Jordan, Jordan Kyle." He extended his hand which I shook firmly.

"Jeff Wolfright, and this is Abby and Mark," I gestured to them both, "Those are other Shadowhunters from the Institute, but I have yet to memorize their names."

Everyone introduced themselves and Jordan knelt next to the wolf. "I see, I'm sorry I took so long to get here. I'll handle it from here. I can keep the Institute informed if the woman ends of changing and I will mentor this one to make sure that nothing like this happens again."

"Sounds good to me, Abby please update Malcolm on this as Mark and I will be returning to New York."

"Shouldn't you rest," Mark placed a hand on my shoulder, "You must be exhausted still. Energy Runes can only do so much."

"Your confidence in me is lacking Mr. Nighthunter," I flicked my wrist generating blue sparks, "I wasn't almost chosen as the high Warlock of L.A. remember. I placed my hand up against the brick wall and they began to fold away into a spiral of blue."

"Wait," Abby stopped us after sending off a fire message in a puff of smoke, "Can I go with you guys? I would like it if you could be my mentor."

I paused for a moment, a tad startled by the request, "You want me as your mentor?"

"Yes, you seem knowledgeable, and I want to become a better Warlock. Who better than someone who was nearly a high Warlock."

"But you could just ask Malcolm, I'm sure he would love to…"

"No, I don't want Malcolm as a mentor. He is too lazy to do these investigations himself and clearly thought that a young Warlock should be in charge of a difficult mission."

"I guess that is true, but I'm not sure if I would be the best mentor."

"I think you would be great," Mark grabbed both of our hands and looked back at the others, "Bye everyone." He dragged us through the portal and we were whisked away into the swirling blend of colors.


End file.
